


sing, o muse

by wewouldremembertonight



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, POV Second Person, Post-Volume 3 (RWBY)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 03:40:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11615121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wewouldremembertonight/pseuds/wewouldremembertonight
Summary: you do not know what it means for a victory to be pyrrhic.





	sing, o muse

you are achilles reborn.

destiny-bound to be a huntress - to protect those who cannot protect themselves, to save the lives of innocents, to be the light against the onslaught of darkness.

your soul knows of victory, not defeat; you have sacrificed intimacy for glory, and the promise of a taste of so-called immortality.

you have given up your whole life to be the best.

you are a soldier in somebody else's war. pieces being moved and taken in a grand scheme that you cannot begin to fathom. and this is okay. you are not here to play a game - you are here to win.

your destiny is assured more than anyone else's in this world.

you do not know what it means for a victory to be pyrrhic.

all you know is battle and success, all you know is that you are red and gold where sunlight meets your bare skin. all you know is the weapon on your right, and the shield on your left, and the armour covering you like a second skin.

(all you know is how to fight.)

jaune is foolish. jaune is silly, and golden-hearted, and oh so _desperate_ \- desperate to prove himself, desperate to be worthy of protecting others, desperate to be a hero.

you have never wanted that. all you have wanted, all you have worked towards is becoming a huntress. but never a hero.

never.

you know you should feel something. you know that this should feel like a defeat, that it should be like ashes in your mouth. like an arrow to the heart, landing true. but you had looked her in the eye.

_do you believe in destiny?_

_yes._

you are achilles reborn, but it does not mean you are to suffer the same fate. it was not your destiny to die there, that day.

you live, and jaune dies.

dust fills your lungs, entering your veins, and something ancient settles in your bones. ruby still comes, cinder is still swallowed by silver light, and the wyvern still becomes petrified on top of beacon tower but―

but you feel it. like the world clicked into place, and _changed_.

there is time for mourning; for tending to the wounded, and collateral damage, and picking up the pieces where their world was torn asunder. destruction was left in its wake, by the darkness, but life needs things to live.

and you are alive, and breathing, and that is a weapon against those who tried to kill you. you are fighting with every breath taken, with every life saved. it's what you're best at - it's what you know. it is not peace, and everything may not be okay, but it is not hopeless. it is not death.

 _this is a victory of its own_ , you think. _hope is not lost, not yet_.

they have not destroyed that.

 

* * *

 

mistral.

it is your kingdom, your home. yet, the corruption runs deep, like roots underground, spreading throughout the land. you idolized it, your home; it crafted you into who you are. the exaltation of the people and their distance at how high they put you - you are the shape they made you to be. their glorious champion.

somehow, you feel ever the more naive for somehow never seeing it. for not seeing the blackened veins of evil that riddles the kingdom. you remember her golden eyes, you remember the grimm, you remember the aftermath of the chaos.

you feel it more deeply than the others do.

doubt churns in your stomach. did they corrupt your home, or was it always there?

(are you just a product of that corruption?)

there are quicker ways but despite how much you yearn for answers, for justice, you take the longer path. _this is your home_ , you think, _and they will not take more of it than they already have._

you are pyrrha nikos, after all.

you talk about mistral - about the history, about the rich culture and the importance of nature to your fellow people. the celebration of differences, and the respect that comes from that, as well as the ability to come together over things that your kingdom all loves.

you manage smiles, and revered praises of old architecture and statues in the villages and settlements the four of you come across. you speak of theatre and fashion - the beauty of your kingdom, the arts.

the villagers give recounts of banditry, and unsavoury types, and your eyes dart away. your kingdom is not pure, you've always known this. but the reminders leave a foul aftertaste in your mouth.

(mistral may be beautiful, but it is also ugly.)

 

* * *

 

months pass, and you are not who you once were.

you, who once were praised student, praised fighter, have become a survivor, a war hero. the place that you once call home, that you still do, turn against you.

they had put you upon that pedestal and they turn against you for it. they used to shout your name, now they only whisper it.

you know your destiny.

to be a warrior, to be a huntress; to kill soulless beasts who hunger only for your destruction. _they are the darkness and we are the light_ , you once said to jaune and the words echo inside your head.

you are the girl who is forced to become a war hero, and you aren't prepared.

you have never been prepared to be a _hero._ you know the weight of greatness and glory. so, it is like everything you know but worse. worse than being exalted, because you are pyrrha nikos.

you are victory fated, born for battle. fighting is what you are, what you have lived and breathed and done your entire life.

they expect perfection from you. to be strong, to never falter, to be the pillar the world has made you to be. they put you upon a pedestal, and now you must become it.

( _none of it makes sense! this isn't how things were supposed to happen!)_

it is not by your design, by your hand, but still, you do it. you do not renounce the role. you may not have been prepared to be a hero, may have never wanted to be one, but even so, you will not abandon the people of remnant in their time of need.

you will try. you will succeed.

you must.

this is what you are, this is who you are. you are not tragedy, carved from legends and myths. this is not your fate - countless deaths are carried with your name, but not yours, not yours.

 _achilles. neoptolemus. pyrrhus_.

you may not know how to be a hero - not yet anyways - but you know how to fight. to fight against all odds, and come out scathed, broken, and damaged, but alive.

 _alive_ , to fight another day.

you are pyrrha nikos, after all. you have been fighting all your life.

you do not know what it means for a victory to be pyrrhic.


End file.
